


Every Hour Has Come to This

by IvanW



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Comfort, Love, M/M, Old Married Spirk Challenge, Romance, Sex, Space Husbands, a day in the life, happy marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 08:43:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8438983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IvanW/pseuds/IvanW
Summary: Old Married Spirk Challenge November 2016This takes place after The Voyage Home and likely after The Undiscovered Country.Kirk and Spock are living happily together in Iowa. No particular plot, just a typical day together.





	

Jim woke to a cold, empty bed. It was not unusual, though it was not particularly welcome either. He sighed and turned onto his back to stare up at the ceiling of their bedroom. He listened for any sounds, wondering if Spock was up making breakfast or had gone for a walk. Perhaps even meditating. He heard nothing, which probably meant one of the two latter choices.

He turned his head toward the window and saw a blanket of white. That explained the cold. Snowing. Jim would think it was perhaps a bit early for snow, being only November, but he knew Riverside too well to ever be completely surprised.

Since he couldn’t imagine his Vulcan husband traipsing out in the snow, that meant he was likely meditating. Spock didn’t like to be interrupted during that time. They’d been together enough years to figure that out.

Jim swung his legs out of bed, groaning slightly at the pain in his lower back. He was stiff all over as he rose out of bed and made his way to the bathroom to relieve his bladder. He eyed the shower rather dispassionately. There was no particular reason he had to shower, Jim told himself. Or he could even do it later if he wanted to.  Now that he was retired, there really wasn’t ever any rush.

Sure, a part of him felt bad about that. He missed the stars. Space. It was a part of him and always would be. But he had Spock by his side and this farmhouse and life was good.

He went to his dresser drawers and pulled out his clothes. Since it was cold and he wouldn’t feel much like doing anything besides cuddling with Spock, he pulled on his favorite warn jeans and a red plaid flannel shirt. He opted for a comfortable pair of slippers rather than his sneakers or hiking boots. With snow like that, he didn’t need to go outside.

As soon as he stepped outside of their bedroom, Jim smelled the fabulous scent of freshly ground coffee. It put an instant smile on his face.

Spock stood in the kitchen, his back to Jim for the moment, pouring cream into a cup of steaming hot coffee.

Jim went over to stand behind him and wrapped his arms around Spock’s waist. “For me?”

“Of course.”

Jim nuzzled his neck, grateful to be able to do so. In the old days, of their first days together, discretion had been important. There was a time even Bones didn’t know they were together. And even when their relationship became common knowledge, Spock didn’t want open affection. Jim understood that well enough.

Now, though, with just the two of them at the farmhouse, he could be as openly affectionate and touchy-feely as he wanted and Spock had no objection.

“Your jaw is bristly,” Spock said, then moved out of reach of Jim.

Jim took no offense and picked up his coffee. He took a long swallow with his eyes closed. “Mm. Excellent.” He opened his eyes and smiled at his husband. “I didn’t shave. Too lazy.”

“Indeed there is no need for you to do so. It is doubtful we will go anywhere today.”

Jim turned toward the kitchen window and the softly falling snow. “Probably not. Not even into town. Sorry.”

“I do not require a trip to town and you are hardly responsible for the weather, ashayam.”

Jim chuckled. “I know, sweetheart. Want me to make breakfast?”

“I have already put banana nut muffins into the oven.”

After setting his coffee mug onto the counter, Jim went back to where Spock stood and wrapped his arms around his neck. “You want eggs with them? We have fairly fresh ones from when Myrtle came by yesterday.”

Myrtle was their nearest neighbor, though admittedly not very close, and she had quite a few chickens in her hen house and was fond of bringing over eggs. Jim thought she might just be a tad sweet on Spock. And Jim could hardly blame her.

“If you wish. I do not care either way,” Spock replied.

“Eggs it is then,” Jim said with an easy smile. “I have to have a savory. Maybe some potatoes and onions too.”

Spock’s eyebrow shot up. “You are determined to make breakfast.”

“I like spoiling you.” He glanced toward the fireplace. “I should get a fire going too.” He eyed the small pile of wood. “Might need some more wood from the barn.”

“I do not think you should go out in the storm.”

Jim smiled fondly. “It’s not a storm, Spock. Just a little snow. I’ll just duck in, get some wood, and be back in a jiffy.”

That earned him two arched brows from his favorite being in the universe. Which earned said Vulcan a quick kiss on the lips. He meant it to be quick anyway, but when he went to pull away, Spock’s hands lingered on his biceps, holding him in place. When Spock deepened the kiss, Jim could hardly find a reason to object.

He cupped the back of Spock’s head, pulling him closer and opening Spock’s mouth with his tongue. Jim was delighted when Spock’s tongue brushed his.

“Did you want to go back to bed?” Jim murmured when the kiss broke.

“Perhaps later. I merely wanted to give you a proper morning greeting.”

“That seemed pretty improper, mister,” Jim teased. Then he turned to get his coat to go outside for the wood.  

“Jim.”

“Yes?”

“You are wearing slippers.”

Jim looked down at his feet. He chuckled. He’d forgotten he’d just slipped his feet into the slippers. That meant fetching his snow boots from the inside of the hall closet. He’d really hoped he wouldn’t need them before December. Ah, well.

He traipsed over to the closet and pulled out the boots. He’d left a pair of socks sticking out of the boots, so he took them over to the couch and sat down to put them on. 

“Do you wish assistance?” Spock asked him from the kitchen.

“I can put my own snow boots on, Spock. I’ve been doing that since I was a kid.”

“I meant in retrieving the firewood.”

“Ah. Well, I don’t need help there either. I don’t want you going outside and getting yourself cold.”

Spock didn’t argue further, which Jim knew meant he really hadn’t wanted to go outside, he’d just offered because it was the thing one should do for their husband.

He rose and grabbed his coat off the rack and slipped his arms into it before wrapping a scarf around his neck too. He considered mittens but decided it didn’t look like mitten weather from the window and he preferred his own bare hands when being physical.

“Be right back,” he called back to Spock.

The back door led out to some cement steps down into the yard. The snow was turning more into slush than flakes, really. Which meant if it got colder in the day, the ground would turn to ice.

He stepped down and winced at the little jolt of pain shooting up his leg and to his hip joint as the ground crunched beneath him. There was a time when he would have run to the barn and back, his arms full of wooden logs for the fire, and not even out of breath.

There were times when he longed for those days. And if not those days, at least the youth and energy he once had. If he could offer that vitality to Spock for their remaining years together, he would give anything. Jim knew his eventual demise years ahead of Spock weighed heavily on his husband.

With a shake of his head at his melancholy senseless musings, he headed down the snowy path toward the barn.    

****

Spock glanced toward the door that led out to the yard between the house and the barn. Still no sign of Jim and he had been gone longer than Spock had anticipated. Though the snow was not falling particularly hard, at least not yet, but it was falling and from what Spock could see out of the kitchen window it was more rain than snow currently. Wet snow.

Jim could handle himself well, even now, Spock reminded himself. He had a good many years ahead of him, and though he was getting plump, he was in good health, per Jim’s own physicians.

Still…

Spock frowned minutely.

Jim had only recently recovered from a cold. It was not a severe one, but that hadn’t stopped Spock from keeping close watch over him. He was well aware older humans often became sicker with ordinary illnesses. The common cold could easily turn to a more concerning pneumonia. Spock should have insisted Jim stay inside the house instead of going out to fetch wood for Spock’s comfort.

Blowing out a long held breath, Spock moved out of the kitchen and over to the coatrack to obtain his cloak. It was a present from Jim the Christmas before and was embroidered with an elaborate pattern of leaves and vines. Spock raised the hood over his hair and made his way to the back door. He peered outside but he could see nothing from where he stood. There was no hope for it. He would have to go out.

Spock twisted the knob and stepped out onto the steps. On the backside of the house they had an enclosed porch. Jim often dragged him out there on a summer day, but summer had past months ago and the porch unused for months.

“Jim?” Spock called, stepping down into the yard. It was then that he saw Jim and his heart clenched hard in his side. Jim lay on the ground just outside of the barn, logs of wood splayed out around him. “Jim!”

Spock hurried to his husband’s side, mindful of being careful in the wet snow and ice. When he reached Jim, Jim was looking up at him, eyes crinkled with something Spock recognized as mirth.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Jim, are you injured?”

“Mostly my pride.” Jim sighed. “Slipped.”

Not willing to feel relief until he had ascertained Jim did not have any serious injuries, Spock reached down to carefully pull Jim to his feet.

Jim smiled wryly. “Thanks. I was going to get around to standing. I was having a moment.”

“What sort of moment?”

“Just, you know, thinking. How I’m probably going to feel bruised all over later. I’m not the way I was when I was young, Spock.”

“None of us are.” Spock felt his husband for injuries. “Nothing hurts?”

“Not overmuch, no.”

“You didn’t strike your head on the ground?” Spock asked.

“No.” Jim’s smile widened. “You’re giving me that disapproving husband look.”

Spock pursed his lips. “I should have prevented you from coming out for the wood.”

“It was just a little fall, Spock. I’m fine. I’m not as fragile as that, you know. Help me pick up the wood, will you?”

Spock bent down and retrieved most of the logs Jim had collected, allowing his husband to only carry a couple of them.

“I can get that,” Jim protested.

“I would prefer that you concentrate on getting yourself safely back into the house.”

Jim opened his mouth as though to argue but he shrugged. “Fine, fine. You look great in that cloak, by the way. Glad to see you wearing it.”

“You put a great deal of effort into the embroidery, why would I not?’ Spock was aware Jim had spent painstaking hours decorating the cloak himself, reading glasses perched on his nose, mouth puckered in concentration. Spock had told Jim it was all completely unnecessary. Even giving Spock a gift had been, let alone one that he’d had to work so hard on, but Jim had just given him that warm smile that thawed Spock’s insides like nothing could.

“It’s made out of love, Spock,” Jim said now as he did last Christmas when he’d made it for Spock.

They made it back inside the house with the wood without further incident for which Spock was quite grateful.

After they set the logs by the fireplace, Spock turned to his husband. “Your clothes are wet now from lying on the ground. I recommend a hot shower and then dry clothes.”

“I was going to make eggs and potatoes,” Jim protested, rather weakly.

“I will make them.”

“But—”

“Jim, I am more than capable of attending to breakfast.”

Jim chuckled somewhat breathlessly. “All right, Mister Spock. You win. I’ll be back out shortly.”

Spock hung up his cloak as well as Jim’s damp coat and scarf. Jim hadn’t bothered with a hat, so his hair and eyelashes had been dotted with snow and slush, but the shower would take care of that as well.

He returned to the kitchen, ready to make breakfast.

****

Jim did feel better after he got out of the shower. He muscles felt perhaps a little sorer than before he fell, but it was manageable. He opened up the medicine cabinet in the bathroom to look for a pain reliever.

The house was old. It had stood on their land for hundreds of years and been in the family for generations. Over the years there had been improvements, renovations. But for some weird reason the medicine cabinet that had been in this particular bathroom had survived through dozens of these improvements. It was one of those old mirrored ones with just a few too short to be really useful shelving units inside.

His fingers closed around what he was looking for. One of Bones’ good old hypos filled with just what the doctor ordered for his aches and pains. He’d have to contact Bones before too long to send a new supply. Or maybe come with it, as it had been a while since his last visit. Bones would grumble about visiting in the winter but Jim knew his friend secretly loved it.

Jim jabbed his arm with the hypo and then left the bathroom to go fetch some new clothes. More worn jeans and a flannel shirt. This one blue plaid instead of the red he’d worn earlier. They were comfortable and besides Spock had expressed a fondness for them.

He liked to make Spock happy though Jim was aware he would never specifically admit to that particular emotion. They’d been through so much together to reach this point. Hell, Spock had died.

Jim didn’t like to think about that. Too much thinking about it made him physically ill.

And the lengths he’d had to go through to revive Spock. To bring him back to where he belonged. By Jim’s side. Always.

“Jim?” Spock called from the kitchen.

“Coming!”

He pulled the flannel shirt on over his head, tugged it down and then went back into the kitchen.

“How do you feel?” Spock asked.

Though he tried to hide it behind his Vulcan mask, Jims sensed Spock’s anxiety. He went to Spock and wrapped his arms around his husband in a warm embrace.

“I’m fine, Spock. Really.”

 He felt the hum of Spock’s mind, wrapping around his, and then Spock said in a low, rumbly voice, “Breakfast is finished, ashayam.”

“Thank you for that. You didn’t have to.”

“It is a small matter.”

Spock directed him to sit at their small table for two. It had a leaf that could expand it to a table for four at times when Bones or someone visited, but for the most part they were content to keep it as it was. Cozy and intimate.

Jim took his seat, coffee cup clutched in both hands as he waited for Spock to bring his breakfast plate over to the table. The truth was Spock insisted on doing more of the cooking than he should. Jim was fine with taking turns but for some reason Spock had decided he needed to ‘take care' of Jim.

Spock brought him a plate that was piled high with eggs and fried potatoes as well as two of the banana muffins he had been baking.

“Spock, if I eat all this I’ll be big as a house,” Jim said with a laugh, grabbing his fork and digging in.

“There is nothing wrong with your appearance,” Spock replied, returning to the table carrying his own plate which consisted of half a muffin, one poached egg, and a small helping of fried potatoes mixed with onions.

He’d had this argument with Spock before and it never ended any other way than for them to agree to disagree. Spock seemed to like Jim plump and so Jim just gave up on an argument Spock seemed determined to win.

Jim closed his eyes in appreciation as he tasted the potatoes. “God, why does food taste so good?”

When he opened his eyes, Spock wasn’t bothering to hide his amusement. “No doubt to entice you to eat it.”

“Really, I’ll eat just about anything, but damn this is good. It tastes better when you make it too. Don’t know why.”

“You say that only to offer me false compliments. Your cooking skills match mine easily and in some cases surpass mine.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t argue with me, Mister Spock.”

“Tomorrow I will make biscuits and gravy.”

“I already love you. You don’t need to spoil me.” Jim grinned.

“In fact I do.”

The flippant response he had died on his lips, because they’d had this conversation before too. It ended up making Spock sad, because it inevitably led to talk of Jim’s death well before Spock’s. And Jim knew better than most what it was like to watch your spouse die before your very eyes. Jim had done everything he could to bring Spock back. Some might say too much. Jim never thought that and never would. He had Spock here. 

Instead he merely reached for Spock’s hand, wrapping his fingers around the palm, as he continued to eat his breakfast. Spock chose not to move his hand away so they finished eating with their hands together.

When they finished eating, Jim did the dishes up because he’d insisted, even though Spock had tried to protest. In the end, Jim was forced to pull rank on Spock, and he was well aware it would work. Even though, as Spock pointed out, they were both retired from active duty.

Spock was in the living room, seated next to the fireplace, absorbing the warmth of the fire he had built up with the wood they’d brought inside.

Jim took his place next to Spock. “Did you meditate?”

“Earlier before you rose for the day.”

“Mm. That’s good.”

“Are you sore from your fall?”

“Not much.”

“Which means you are sore at least a little.”

Jim shrugged. “It’s manageable.” He brought his hand to Spock’s face and turned him so that he could place a kiss on Spock’s mouth. He glanced down at the PADD Spock held in his hands. “What are you doing?”

“Messages about my obtaining the ambassadorship.”

“Really going to do it?”

“If you have no objection.”

“None,” Jim answered at once. “Whatever you want.” He waited a pace and then took the PADD from Spock’s hands and placed it on the coffee table. “I’d like to distract you. If you have no objections,” he added with a grin.

Up went the eyebrow which only made Jim’s grin widen. “I have none.”

Jim leaned in close to Spock, capturing his lips, cool and sweet. There’d be time for more strenuous activities later. For now he just wanted to make Spock feel loved and cherished.

He pulled back enough to reach for the zipper on Spock’s beige trousers. They matched the wheat colored sweater he wore. Spock watched him carefully but made no move to interfere.

Jim opened Spock’s pants only enough to remove his exquisite cock. His husband was already half hard as he lifted the heavy shaft free from the confines of his pants and underwear. At first, Jim was content to merely stroke Spock, watching with unabashed eagerness as his husband became fully erect, his cock rising thick and full, flushed lightly green.

But his contentment to merely touch Spock wouldn’t last long. He fully intended to taste Spock, make him lose his careful Vulcan control, and come down Jim’s throat. It was definitely one of his favorite activities.

Jim knelt on the floor next to the couch.

“Jim, your knees—”

“If you can still speak, I’m not doing this right,” Jim joked.

He wrapped his fist around the base of Spock’s cock and opened his mouth over the tip of Spock’s double ridged masterpiece. His reward was a low guttural groan escaping from Spock's lips. It did wonders for Jim’s own arousal, his erection now pressing against his pants. He reached down to squeeze himself, closing his eyes when a jolt of pleasure tightened his balls.

Spock did not gasp his name. He was not particularly vocal during sex. He usually let Jim known his satisfaction with the quivering of his body, the clutching of the sheets in tight fists as he came, the hitching of his breath, barely whooshing out from his lungs as he fought for control.

He was rewarded at that moment with the little shuttered breath as Jim sucked him deep within his mouth, swallowing around the beautiful Vulcan cock. The first taste of the salty tangy yet somehow spicy fluid touched his tongue as Spock quaked with the beginning of his orgasm. His fists held on to the seat cushions of the sofa as his hips rose unbidden, pushing up into Jim’s mouth, seeking respite.

When Jim could swallow no more as his gag reflexes could not withstand it, he released Spock’s now deflated, tender penis. He kissed the tip, which did earn him a low rumble. He couldn’t help but chuckle at that, even as he carefully tucked Spock inside his underwear, then his pants, re-doing the zipper. As Jim sat back on his haunches, wiping his mouth and chin with a tissue he’d removed from the nearby box, his husband still looked more than a little debauched.

Jim loved him this way.

“And what of you?” Spock asked after a moment, carelessly lifting a brow in that far too sexy way he had. He’d been doing that for years and if Jim had it his way, he’d be doing it for even more.

Jim rose from where he still rested on the floor to sit once more beside Spock. “I can wait. Later. When you’ve recovered. We can go nap.”

Spock’s lips curved in the tiniest of smiles. “Somehow we never actually sleep during these naps you keep insisting on.”

“Ah. You caught me, Mister Spock.” Jim leaned over and kissed him. “It’s merely a way to have my wicked way with you.”

“Indeed. And you are correct, Jim.”

“Mm.” Jim drew back from another kiss with an inquisitive smile. “What am I correct about?”

“You have caught me.”

“Well, as to that, Mister Spock, I’m pretty sure we caught each other.”  


End file.
